Broken
by DobbyLovesSocks
Summary: "But Colin always shook his head and smiled, because they would never understand. They would only see the quill, not the hand holding it, or the parchment beside it. They wouldn't understand that this camera, these photos, meant more to him than anything else, that they held every important moment in his lifetime." /unrequited Colin/Ginny


"And I think it's bad when the most honest way a boy can look at a girl is through a camera. ...And he would think that the reason the photograph was beautiful was because of how he took it. If I took it, I would know that the only reason it's beautiful is because of [her]."

-Stephen Chbosky, Perks of Being a Wallflower

* * *

When his camera was destroyed by the basilisk, Colin was devastated. He had felt as though he had lost all of his friends. It wasn't that he didn't _have_ friends, because he did. But that small, metal box held all of his memories starting from his first day at Hogwarts.

Colin took pictures the way other children kept diaries. He carried his camera with him, capturing every moment - every _person - _he deemed important. And when he held the melted lump that was once his camera, Colin cried. A whole year was gone, and he had no proof of the memories. But most of all, Colin cried for the loss of one picture.

Ever since his first day, Colin had noticed the beauty of Ginny Weasley; the way her brown eyes gleamed whenever she was excited, how her smile would light up her face, bursting with excitement. But she was, as they all say, too popular for her own good, so Colin simply admired her from a distance. He felt almost guilty, watching her. Her smile was so bright that he felt like he was intruding on something private as he gazed at her. When a friend would whisper to her and her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment, Colin felt as though he shouldn't be watching. But when he pulled out his camera, it wasn't so wrong, anymore.

It was the perfect picture. Her eyes didn't gleam, darling, they _shined_. Her smile was brighter than even the sunlight streaming in behind her, and her hair was fire; beautiful, but almost too intense to look at. When Colin lifted the camera to his eye, all thoughts of guilt and intrusiveness passed, because this picture wasn't for _him_. This picture was for anyone lucky enough to find it. And Colin knew the most important thing a photographer can know: The photograph wasn't beautiful because he took it. It was simply because Ginny was the subject, and Colin just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

The night he held his broken camera, Colin cried himself to sleep.

* * *

When he came back for second year, Colin arrived with something new. Another camera. It wasn't as good as his old one- nothing ever would be- but it was a camera and it took pictures and it held memories, which was all that Colin needed. He took dozens of pictures, year after year, but fourth year was when the questions really began.

_"Why do you always have that camera, Colin?"_

_"What's so special about that? It's just a quill."  
_

But Colin always shook his head and smiled, because they would never understand. They would only see the quill, not the hand holding it, or the parchment beside it. They wouldn't understand that this camera, these photos, meant more to him than anything else, that they held every important moment in his lifetime and that of those around him.

And every night, he would watch Ginny in the common room, the firelight reflecting off of her hair. But Colin never took a picture of her, because he knew that he had to wait for the right moment. Because being a photographer isn't about struggling to create the right lighting, or adjusting people so that they're in the perfect position. It's about stumbling across all of those things at once, and taking the perfect picture.

And finally, after months of waiting, Colin found that picture. It was simple; she was leaning against the doorway to one of the greenhouses, hair billowing behind her as she laughed. There was the same look of joy and excitement on her face as there had been in the previous picture, but now she looked older, more mature. The excitement didn't seem to be bursting from her, as much as radiating off of her. And Colin thought that it was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen.

Ginny was dating Michael Corner now, but Colin didn't really mind. Because now, the sparkle in her eye was just a little bit brighter, her smile, a little bit wider. She was even more beautiful this way, and Colin thought that sharing the beauty with Michael Corner was a small price to pay.

_But Colin didn't want to share._

And one day, he found them kissing in the corridors, each glued to the other. Neither one noticed him, so Colin slipped away before they could see him.

(But not before snapping a picture.)

This one wasn't to be shared with anyone, which Colin knew was right. But still, he felt guilty. Because this photo _wasn't _for the benefit of others, it was simply because he needed an excuse to look at Ginny, happy. Even if she _was _kissing another boy in the photograph.

The night that Colin took that shot, he cried himself to sleep.

* * *

The night before what should have begun Colin's seventh year, Dennis Creevey slipped into his brother's room, fighting back tears. His room still looked just as it had before the war; blue walls, clothes strewn across the floor, and photos taped up all over. But this time, Dennis noticed something he never had before: two photos on the wall, directly beside Colin's bed. One was of a boy and a girl kissing, probably around 14 years old. The other was of the same girl, laughing and gazing up at the sky. And, stuck behind the bed, Dennis discovered a third picture of the girl, looking no more than eleven years old, sunlight filtering through the window behind her. Unable to hold back the tears any longer, Dennis allowed a sob to escape him. All of these pictures surrounding him were just reminders of the brother he had lost. After a moment, Dennis spotted what he had come into the room for. He gently lifted the camera from its spot on Colin's night table, and slipped it into his pocket.

Just because Colin wasn't there anymore didn't mean that he wouldn't live on.

Months later, Dennis sat in a large room full of people, camera in hand. The year was over, the seventh-years were graduating, and he hadn't taken a single picture. He promised himself over and over that he was _just waiting for the right moment, _but the moments were slipping away, and Dennis had a duty to fulfill. He looked at Ginny Weasley, comparing her to the pictures his brother had taken, and he realized that this was not the same girl in the photos. That girl had been happy, smiling, full of life. This girl looked, there was no other word for it, broken. Her once bright eyes were devoid of happiness, and her smile was full of sadness and regret.

As she and the other seventh-years waited for their names to be called, Dennis fingered the camera in his hands, feeling as though he should do something with it. And at last, he found the perfect moment.

Professor McGonagall had finished reading out the names of the graduating students, and had moved onto a different list. The second list named all of the children who had been lost in the war, that would otherwise have been graduating alongside the others. And when she reached the name "Colin Creevey," Dennis snapped the picture. Ginny's eyes were now full of tears, but she looked fierce, all the same. There was no smile on her face, but a look of anger and sorrow, instead.

And when Dennis got home, he taped the picture up right next to the others. It scared him how perfectly they fit together, a perfect display of growing up. This wasn't about sugarcoating, or making things look pretty. This was about showing how a beautiful girl can turn into a broken woman in only a matter of years. And how in this twisted world, it can happen to anyone.

The night that Dennis realized this, he cried himself to sleep.

* * *

**A/N- A huge thanks to Ami L. Mendal for beta reading this! Thanks again! :) And yes, I'm sure your eyes were simply overheating. ;) **

**Dedicated to Exceeds Expectations/Paula because she obsesses over Perks with me (:D) and seems to think just like I do... And 'cause together we're totally awesome! :)  
**

**Disclaimer- J.K Rowling is British. Me? I wish.  
**


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